Welcome Great Sir, salutes you ev'ry where,
Belov'd by JOVE, by Birth His chiefest care:
With busy joy our Seven-fold Lute we String,
To tell in Notes your safety to the King;
Mov'd with soft Numbers envy here is shown,
Each strives to bid you welcome to the Town.
With melting Harmony our Harps are Strung,
Soft as the Love with which the Throne is Hung:
Such Mirth your Presence adds to Monarchy,
In spite of Rage, and Factious Anarchy
Those Closet-Products of Damn'd Whiggery:
Such new rais'd Plagues of every Corporation,
We will allay by Anti-Association;
Laden with Loyalty our Arms shall be
That Golden Bracelet of Blest Unity,
The sole unbias'd Basis of true Property:
Next after CHARLES a Monarch you may claim,
At whose Protection all our Fortunes aim.
ENGLAND Triumphant now may brighter Shine,
Blest with the Rayes of thy good Father's Line;
Crown'd with Religions peaceful Olive, She
With Tory Zeal a Monument to Thee
Shall raise of ever verdant Piety.
Long did our Royal Monarch in his mind
Hugg your Return, and hop'd that some kind Wind
Would lodge you safe within His Sacred Arms,
Where scarce His Scepter feels more pleasing Charms,
Oh! could we raise our groveling Souls to Thee,
Fill'd with a smooth Majestick Harmony!
For to a Crown, that Monarch of Delight,
Virtue like Thine Victorious takes her Flight.
But cease my Muse, in wishes speak the rest,
Whilst with two Godlike Souls our Albion's Blest.
FINIS.